Dead Cold Mysteries Box Set #3: Books 9-12 (A Dead Cold Box Set), Blake Banner [reading in the dark TXT] 📗

I said, “UFOs were a consuming interest for him…”

“It was a passion. For May and myself it had been a lifelong interest, but for Danny it was a true passion. We encouraged him but always urged him to approach the subject empirically. Sadly, for the vast majority of ufologists these days, the subject has become religion by another name. And John Mack, for all his good intentions, was, I am afraid, largely to blame.”

He said this apologetically, as though I might be scandalized by the suggestion. I shook my head. “John Mack?”

“Professor of psychology at Harvard University, wrote several books on abduction syndrome, concluded that…”

“Forgive me, Mr. Brown, we are on the clock and I am sure you have lots to do yourself. What about the other members of the UFO group? How did Danny get on with them? Do any relationships stand out as either particularly good or particularly bad?”

May sighed and shook her head. “Truly, Detective Stone, it is a shame you can’t understand you are barking up the wrong tree…”

“Help me to understand.”

“Danny was gregarious, outgoing, emotionally very healthy. He had all the self-assurance of the only child, which was a deliberate decision on…” She nodded graciously at her husband. “…our part. The result was that everybody loved him. He was popular, fun, charismatic. He had a great sense of humor, didn’t he, Stuart?”

Before Stuart could answer I cut in. “I am sure he was a charming person, Ms. Brown. But, as I am sure you know, the motive for murder lies always in a relationship—whatever the basis of that relationship may be—so at the moment we are keen to understanding all of Danny’s relationships. Did he, for example, have a girlfriend?”

She placed both her hands on her lap and affected a loud, parrot-like laugh. “Just one?” She hooted again. “You have photographs of him? He was gorgeous! And that happy-go-lucky personality! The girls were crazy about him!” She shook her head. “But he was not ready to settle… Hold on.”

She rose and strutted on those powerful legs to the dresser in the dining room. There she squatted down with startling flexibility and opened one of the cupboards in the base. She extracted a couple of photo albums and brought them back with her, leafing through the top one as she walked.

She sat next to Dehan and handed her the album. “There, that’s him. Was he hot or what?” She wheezed. Dehan studied the photos without expression. May went on, nudging Dehan with her elbow. “’Course, he’d be forty now, a bit too old for you, hey?”

Dehan handed me the album and I looked at a large photograph of about fifteen people against a backdrop of pine trees in what appeared to be a mountainous area. Most of the people there were young men and women, probably in their early to mid twenties, though behind them there was an older man, perhaps in his late thirties. He was the only one who was not smiling. His gaze was more what you might describe as keen. Next to him was a woman, maybe ten years younger than him. She looked Asian, perhaps Filipina. May was saying, “Danny is the one in the middle, sitting at the front, with the open denim shirt.”

I found him. He was a handsome young man with a mischievous grin and floppy brown hair. Hunkered down on his left was a powerfully built, dark-haired guy with his arm around Danny’s shoulders, and on his right was a pretty girl, laughing, with her head on his shoulder. Danny’s arms were both on his knees. I looked up at Stuart, who was watching me carefully.

“May I take a copy of this?”

He gestured at me with an open hand. “Be our guest.”

I took a picture on my cell, then showed Stuart the album. “Who are the two either side of him?”

He took it and set it on his lap, gazed at it for a while with sad eyes. “This was their first field trip after he’d joined them. The man standing at the back is Donald Kirkpatrick, a highly intelligent man. Some kind of scientist by training. He founded the group. The two at the front…” He took a deep breath which turned into a sigh. “I remember them, I don’t recall their names. May?”

He handed it to her. She glanced but didn’t take it. “Paul Estevez and Jane Harrison.”

“They look pretty close.”

“I told you, everybody loved him, but he was a free spirit. For them it was probably nothing more than a social activity. For him it was a search for the truth. And, as Donald points out, it was a search that cost him his life.” She regarded me with an expression that was close to pity. It was only the hint of contempt that stopped it getting there. “Really, Detective, you are asking the wrong questions. What you need to be asking is, what did he discover? What did he unearth that made him a target?”

I spread my hands. “OK. Tell me. What did he discover that made him a target?”

Dehan was watching May with the kind of expressionless face she normally reserved for people she wanted to slap. Before May could answer me, Dehan asked, “A target for whom, Mrs. Brown? And also, what evidence have you got that he was a target for somebody? If you have that evidence, why have you not shared it with the police?”

Stuart had raised his hands in a ‘slow down’ gesture and was smiling at the coffee table. “Hang on, hang on, let’s take these questions one at a time. First: we are not withholding any information. Second: we do not have any proof, as you would understand it, that Danny was anybody’s target.” He spread his hands and nodded.